Flip It
by CamoLang
Summary: [one-shot] A songfic about Hisashi Mitsui, based on A.Keys' song Piano & I


Flip It  
  
Hell oh, my goodness I didn't know I was here  
  
Mitsui looked up at the basket. So I'm back huh? Back to this court. Back to basketball. He felt a wave of deja vu. He never thought he'd return. He had once turned his back on basketball so firmly, so decidedly. Do I still know how to play? He picked up a ball lying near his feet. Feeling the solid sphere in his hand, his instincts immediately kicked in.  
  
He knew this feeling, he had felt it before. It was a different part of him. Whenever he held the ball, whenever he played, it seemed as though his body is detached from his mind, from his feelings. There was just him, his senses, the ball and the basket. Immediately he knew what to do, how to play. It is almost as if he was born to do it.  
  
His body surged forward, the ball with it. His hand was like a suction tube, the ball bouncing in rhythm to his steps, always hitting the same spot on his hand. He reached the basket and delivered a lay-up shot. Perfect, he was still perfect.  
  
But I can't say the same for my stamina though, he thought. He used to be able to play all over the court, to turn the game in whichever direction he so wished. Without even breaking a sweat.  
  
Now as he retrieved the ball, he was aware of his own panting. He breathed hard through his mouth, sucking sweet oxygen into his starved lungs. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears. Half a court, he thought, half a court and he was like a bloody dog.  
  
So this is what you've become. A weakling. You can't even manage half a court. Idiot! What made you think you belonged here? Why did you come back? You came to thrash that idiot Miyagi. You should have just left after that! Why did you beg Coach Anzai? Why did you cry in front of them? You baby, you loser, you freak!  
  
His breathing had returned to normal. Snapping out of his thoughts, he suddenly realized he had started walking back towards half-court and was now standing on the three-point line. Turning around to face the basket once more, he lifted his arms above his head, ball in hands. It was instinct.  
  
His body defied gravity, his feet rising a few inches above the ground. In a swift motion, his right hand flicked, sending the ball propelling through the air. The ball landed in the basket. It hit nothing but net.  
  
Yes, this is who he is. He was a good player, he told himself. Still is. He was the best in junior high. And he was going to be the best in senior high. For this is who he is.  
  
Do you know my name?  
  
He is Hisashi Mitsui.  
  
*****  
  
"Don't let Mitsui get the ball!"  
  
Mitsui barely heard the coach of the opposing team. He barely heard the audience cheering. He barely heard anything at all. All he was concerned about was turning the game around. He had told his teammates not to worry. They had him on their side. Even though frankly, he did not quite believe what he was saying himself. How do I turn the game, he wondered, how can I win?  
  
It was at that moment, focused on his thoughts, that he had crashed onto the guests' table. He did not even remember how it happened. All he cared about was getting the ball. Over. It's all over.  
  
And then it happened. Something he would never forget in his life. Someone. Coach Anzai. "Don't give up."  
  
"If you give up now, the game is already over."  
  
Can't go wrong when you try Always got to try  
  
Back in the game, he knew he still had a chance. All he had to do was score. 12 seconds was still time. There was still time.  
  
No matter how long that shit take  
  
No matter what he had to win. Everything else around him blurred as he drove towards the basket. There was only him and the basket. His shot was perfect. The game was won and his team victorious. He was celebrated as an MVP. But of course, that is just a title to go by.  
  
In actual fact, he was simply Hisashi Mitsui.  
  
*****  
  
Finally! Off the bench and onto the court where he belonged. Coach Anzai had kept him on the bench for long enough. The rest could stay there, but Shohoku needed him. Miuradai had played around for long enough. No letting up now, this is for real.  
  
This is it. My first game in two years. He felt a certain euphoria he never felt in a long time. After the hiatus, he was going to show everyone what he's made of.  
  
He caught the ball when he felt it coming towards him. He didn't even see it at first. He sensed it. At last the ball was in his hands. It felt so familiar, so right. He remembered his dream when he was a first year in senior high.  
  
Whatever stops you from dreaming Whatever tries to stop you from living  
  
He had promised that Shohoku would be the National Champions. He was not going to go back on his words. And it would start here, in this very game. He jumped up to deliver his three-pointer.  
  
Flip it  
  
He flicked his wrist. The ball sped through the air and landed in the basket. It hit nothing but net.  
  
Welcome home  
  
He did it.  
  
Cos right now what I have to do Is I gotta amp myself up as well as you  
  
And they have not seen the best of him yet.  
  
So what if it took me like Maybe two years and shit  
  
That was just the first of it.  
  
But I fell in prepared You know what I'm saying?  
  
He was going to do better.  
  
And I'm feeling a little more ready for the world And less lost As I once was  
  
It's time.  
  
So c'mon, what you waiting on?  
  
C'mon Miuradai! Give me your best shot!  
  
Feel me feel me feel me  
  
Because victory will still be mine. 


End file.
